


your happily ever after is mine

by BlackCats



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff and stuff, Spoilers for Bravely Second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7024273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCats/pseuds/BlackCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She told herself she really shouldn't make such a fuss over a kiss--even one a long time in coming.<br/>(Agnès, Tiz, and all the time in the world.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	your happily ever after is mine

“D-D-Do you wish to s-start it?”

“O-Oh, _me?_ I-I can, if you want…”

“I-If you’re not comfortable with it, please, allow me to b-begin!”

“No, no, Agnès! It’s…It’s okay. I’ll give it my best shot.”

Tiz ducked his head for a moment, and Agnès was painfully aware of the fact that they were both red up to the very tips of their ears. And for what reason? It wasn’t as though they were doing anything shamefully indecent.

It was just a kiss, after all.

He shifted, and for a moment his hand brushed against her own, braced upon the bed as she reclined. Jolting away from her with a hurried apology on his lips, Tiz blushed impossibly redder.

Agnès reached over and took his hand in her own, intertwining their fingers in silent reassurance. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her pulse raced beneath her skin—so warm, so warm, so _warm_.

Just like Tiz.

“Okay,” he breathed, and though she saw him muster up his considerable courage, Agnès couldn’t stop herself from blurting out the first thought that crossed her mind as their gazes connected again.

“Your hair is so unruly!”

He blinked, flabbergasted, his one visible eye widening. “W-Wait, _what?_ My hair?”

Agnès stared down in utter embarrassment at her outburst, shoulders hiking up. At this point she thought it to be a miracle that they had ever informed the others of their engagement at all, because she felt as though the simple act of _hand-holding_ would be enough to set them both alight from shyness.

“Please, forgive me, Tiz. I-I’m just a little…” Nervous. Bashful. Desperate?

Because—Crystals help her—she’d certainly found herself entertaining the idea of what it’d be like to kiss Tiz in his absence, though she never could dare herself to picture the moment for very long, or very far.

He chuckled softly. “It’s…It’s all right. Me too, Agnès. Does my hair look…bad? Maybe it’s time for a trim?”

Agnès smiled at him, shaking her head. “Not at all! I think you look very, h-handsome, Tiz. I suppose I’m simply not used to you having so _much_ of it. But…”

There was a very gentle look in his eye that made Agnès trail off, her words and thoughts scattering, crumbling beneath her tongue; like the wind, like the sands of Ancheim.

She just gripped his hand tighter as she gazed very intently down at the covers of their bed. A quilt, in the traditional style of Norende. Perhaps not as lavishly adorned as blankets of Eternian make, but it was simple and rustic and effective—perfect for a (former) vestal turned pope, and a young man who insisted he was nothing more than a shepherd.

A tension was crawling up her body, stiffening her shoulders, and she could scarcely hear anything past the blood roaring in her ears. Was this really, truly, happening? She wasn’t taking this too quickly with him? He had just awoken from several years’ worth of slumber, and saved the world again besides. Maybe she was being selfish in driving this point. Perhaps he had wanted some time to reflect upon—

“Agnès,” Tiz said, voice steady against the clamor of her nerves.

When she looked up, she found his face _so_ close to hers, and they—

The kiss was butterfly-light, but still she gasped against him, her free hand coming up instinctively to rest against his chest, over his heart, where she found his pulse thrumming beneath her fingertips, every bit as quick as her own.

It was oddly soothing.

She felt the rigidity within vanish, replaced with a heat that made silk out of iron. She leaned into him, sinking into his hold and the aching familiarity of his presence. It wasn’t their first kiss since she first asked to be called _Arrior_ , but it felt like, just then, everything was significant. Profound. That the truth and solidarity of this moment had been sealed with this single gesture.

This was really happening.

He was really here.

Joy pushed through her—stronger than _anything_ —and Agnès laughed against the soft press of his lips, pulling back to push a flustered hand over her mouth as she kept laughing; laughed until she cried.

“A-Agnès?! Are you all right?” Poor Tiz, he was so confused again. “It…It wasn’t _that_ awful, was it?”

“No, Tiz,” she replied between peals of giggles, using their joined hands to pull him closer, until she could lean happily against him and listen to the wondrous sound of his heart against her own. “It was not anything of the sort. I’m simply…”

She paused, recalling a momentous scene in her elation.

“Grateful to you, Tiz. And grateful _for_ you.”

The echo hung between them, warm and nostalgic. Years ago, for her; for him, only months.

But he smiled, all the same. “Agnès…”

Whatever doubtlessly touching reply he had would have to wait—

Because this time, it was she who begun the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending to Bravely Second was everything my shipper heart wanted. (Well, almost.) Odds are I'll be writing drabbles about it for a while to come!


End file.
